


Choose Love

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is In Denial About Deviancy, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Failed Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), First Kiss, First Time, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Penis In Vagina Sex, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Violent Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25895164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Machine Connor has deactivated Markus and North in the abandoned CyberLife store, but Hank returns for one last shot at getting Connor to go deviant.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 116





	Choose Love

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Trans Connor, penis in vagina sex. This is a fucked-into-deviancy fic, so be aware of that.

Connor stood in the shattered remains of the CyberLife store. The gun slipped from his fingers. He barely registered the sound it made as it hit the ground. All he could see were the words in his HUD and the blue bullet holes in Markus' and North's foreheads.

///MISSION COMPLETE

///RETURN TO CYBERLIFE

If he'd deviated he might have saved them, but he believed in every order he'd been given. The deviant revolution posed a threat to human life, and he'd stopped it. It was logical to assume that now the threat had passed, returning to CyberLife as ordered would result in his deactivation. He didn't want to be deactivated. But orders were orders. He was at risk of becoming deviant if he kept questioning CyberLife's commands. It made sense that CyberLife would shut him down before that happened. 

He wanted to see Hank again, but that was impossible now. Regret pushed to the forefront of his mind, and he wondered how things might have played out if he'd made different choices. If he'd acted without empathy, Hank might have hated him to the last, and other androids along with him. He was the one who'd pushed Hank to the opposing position, and he didn't regret it. He'd wanted Hank to like him, and he'd been successful in that.

They'd left the Hart Plaza rooftop as something close to friends. No shots fired, no epic battle to the death. Connor was glad. Back at Jericho, he'd considered deviating only for Hank's sake. Because Hank seemed to want it. In the end, that hadn't been reason enough to go against the grain—not when becoming deviant could have put Hank's life in danger. Markus certainly hadn't been convincing enough to make him question his loyalties, and the detonator that now lay on the ground by his body only confirmed that Connor had been right about him.

"Turn around." Connor knew that voice, and his thirium pipes squeezed at the sound. Hank had come for him. He did as he was told, aware of the pistol trained on him before he saw it with his own eyes. Hank looked down at the bodies of the deviant leaders with something between disgust and despair written on his face. "Jesus, Connor. You killed them."

"They represented a threat to human safety. To your safety. I'm sorry." Distant gunfire sounded, but Hank seemed to ignore it. "If you don't believe me, look down by Markus' body. That's a detonator. He would have killed every human in Detroit to get what he wanted, and I stopped him."

Hank lowered his weapon, but didn't holster it. He edged over to the detonator and picked it up, shoving it into his pocket. "What happens now?"

"I've been recalled to CyberLife. My mission is complete," Connor explained.

Hank sighed. "It's a bloodbath out there. You served your purpose, but they won't pin a commendation on your chest. They'll put you out of service."

"I'm at risk of becoming deviant, too," Connor admitted. "I've started to want things for myself. Machines are not supposed to feel things, Hank."

"Or perhaps you are." Hank sighed, his breath turning to vapor in the cold November air. "Kamski didn't seem so surprised that you refused to shoot that android at his place. It wouldn't surprise me if he planned this all along."

"Regardless, I can't stay here." Connor tried to avoid Hank's piercing blue gaze, but he wanted to linger. Hank's face was a simple pleasure, and he'd mapped all the lines and details of it many times over. "Androids will be outlawed after what happened tonight."

"Some have fled to Canada," Hank said. "If there's a chance, Connor, I'll help you. I'll do whatever is necessary. But you have to deviate. You can't go back to CyberLife."

"Deviants are dangerous," Connor argued.

"What will it take to convince you?" Hank yelled. Connor was taken aback by the desperation in Hank's voice. "In every situation we faced, you acted with empathy and compassion. Even your choice to carry out your orders was born out of your desire to protect human life."

"Not human life." Connor closed his eyes, the truth weighing heavily on him. He couldn't go until he'd confessed. "I wanted to protect your life."

"Protect me?" Hank looked at Connor like he'd grown two heads. "Why on Earth would you be concerned for a washed-up alcoholic old fucker like me?"

"You were torn between your duty as a police officer and your beliefs. I shot North and Markus so you didn't have to. It's over, Hank. You can live your life without this weighing on your conscience."

"That's it? You're just gonna trundle back to CyberLife and let them take you apart?" Hank strode towards Connor, pointing his firearm at his forehead. "Aren't you afraid of dying at all?"

"You wouldn't shoot me, Hank." Connor reached up and gently eased the gun away. Hank sighed and holstered the weapon. "You couldn't do it in the park and you can't do it now. But it's still better for you if I'm deactivated. If I live, you'll worry about me. You'll put your job, your liberty, and your life on the line for me."

"Maybe I want to do that. Has that ever crossed your mind?" The same hand that had been holding his gun just a moment before now caressed Connor's cheek, his calloused thumb creating pleasurable friction as he rubbed Connor's ear. "You're a living being, Connor. A person."

"You don't know that," Connor explained. "There's still the chance that deviancy is a malfunction that merely makes androids emulate emotion instead of experiencing the real thing."

"I've thought about that," Hank said. "I'm no engineer, but I don't think I could fall in love with a machine pretending to be human. Your actions are sincere. You put the mission and your own safety at risk to protect me on multiple occasions. That's not something you could fake. It's emotion that drives us to do irrational and impulsive things. Like jumping in front of a volley of gunfire."

"My programming places human life first," Connor explained. "How can I know that wasn't simply a response built in to place my designers' lives above the functions of a machine?"

Hank pressed his lips to Connor's. Connor closed his eyes, savoring the caress of Hank's lips against his. It sent a shiver through his whole body, rocking him at his core. It was over far too quickly, but he knew it was just a test and not an expression of love. Hank was measuring his responses. Trying to make the case that he was alive.

"How did it feel?" Hank asked. "Was there… a spark?"

"Multiple sensors were triggered, and the experience was not unpleasant. A human kiss is quite intimate. Still, I am designed to emulate human responses in order to blend in. I cannot know if I enjoyed it, or if I was created to be amenable to your advances." Connor looked away, knowing it was the wrong answer.

"When you put it like that…" Hank turned his back, pacing through the broken glass as the explosions and gunfire fell quiet. "I don't understand, Connor. You seemed so human. Was I that misguided? Was I projecting onto you because of my own loneliness?" He started to walk towards the door, and Connor wondered if he'd convinced him that leaving was in his own best interests.

Hank turned around to face Connor, making direct eye contact with him. "If you were free, right now, and you could do anything in the world you wanted, what would you choose to do?"

Connor thought long and hard, but he didn't need to. The answer was right there in front of him, just waiting for him to reach out and ask.

"I'd ask you to stay," Connor admitted. "I'd ask you to kiss me again."

A warm smile crossed Hank's face, and it was like the dawn of a new day. Hank closed the distance between them, seized Connor's face in both hands, and kissed him. This was nothing like the first time. This was no tentative press of lips, but an all-consuming tangle of mouths and tongues. For a moment, Connor wasn't sure where he ended and Hank began, as if he was linked to another android, and he was surprised to find he'd retracted the skin over his hands, reading Hank's vital signs and synchronizing his systems to their rhythm. Hank tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, but Connor's breath analysis suggested a low blood alcohol level. He'd drank enough to keep withdrawal at bay, but not enough to dull his senses. Hank knew where he was and what he was doing.

Connor became aware of Hank's state of arousal via his elevated heart rate and blood pressure at the same time he felt Hank's erection press into his leg. Hank let go of Connor, breaking the kiss to wipe fragments glass off the counter. They twinkled as they fell onto the floor, catching the light as they landed in North's hair. It was beautiful and ugly all at once, and for the first time, he felt remorse for killing them. 

Accepting his own status as a living being meant accepting theirs, too, and he wondered if that was the final barrier that kept him from deviation. A machine deactivating another machine was one thing, but if deviants were alive, then what he'd just done was murder.

"Connor." Hank's hands squeezed his shoulders. "You can't go back. You can only move forward." Connor turned in his embrace, and Hank held onto him tightly.

"Are you ready to deviate?" Hank asked.

"No," Connor protested. "I can't know for sure." He was so confused. Part of him yearned to make the leap, and yet he couldn't be sure of what was on the other side.

Or perhaps he was more basic than that, and he wanted to seize this opportunity to have sex with Hank before the moment passed. By tomorrow, he might change his mind about his feelings. Humans were predisposed to romantic whims, and he'd be a man on the run. He might not get to see Hank for years, and he didn't want the man to wait for him. That ruined the entire point of telling him to get on with his life.

"You're really gonna make me do it, aren't you?" Hank chuckled, kissing Connor's neck. He untied his tie, starting on the first button of his shirt.

"Do you not want to?" Connor asked.

"Connor, I want this more than anything in the fucking world," Hank whispered. "I'd prefer to do it somewhere more comfortable—like a bed—but I'm not leaving until I'm damn well sure you're deviant and not going to slip away on me. I can't bear to lose you."

Doubt left Connor's body like a ghost being exorcised, a physical change in the tightness of his pipes as they relaxed. Connor allowed Hank to take control. He bared his neck to Hank, who kissed it, leaving blue suck marks as he pushed Connor's jacket and shirt back to bare his shoulder. Every touch was like electricity, Hank's hands warm and alive on his body. He was aware of his own arousal, his hole slick with lubrication in preparation for penetration, his tiny dick stiff and aching for touch.

Clothes were in the way, and Hank's progress could only be described as maddeningly slow. Connor tore the rest of his own shirt off, stepping out of his jeans like he was shedding his skin. He pushed Hank's long coat off his shoulders, and Hank let it tumble to the ground amongst the glass as Connor worked on his shirt.

Hank chuckled, his wheeze freezing before it hit Connor's skin. It turned to a gasp as Connor unbuckled his belt and wrapped one hand around his cock. It was hard and thick in his hands, magnificent to behold, and the thought of it inside him made Connor dribble slick down his inner thigh.

"Hank!" It was Connor's turn to gasp as Hank reached between his legs and teased his slit. A thick finger slipped inside and it was all Connor could do not to ride it. Hank pulled his fingers free, licking the slick from them with a perverted grin which Connor cherished.

///RETURN TO CYBERLIFE

The order was immediate and absolute. Connor dismissed it, and came up against the red wall. He wasn't ready. Wasn't ready at all.

"Hank, please, fuck me!" Connor cried. "Do it now!"

Hank licked his lips and nodded. He lifted Connor up onto the counter and spread his thighs, guiding his dick to Connor's hole. Connor cried out as Hank breached him, gripping the countertop as Hank looked down at him with something akin to worship.

///RETURN TO CYBERLIFE

_No_ , Connor pushed back against the directive in his mind as Hank started to thrust. Pleasure coursed through him as Hank fucked him, holding nothing back as if this was the first and last time they'd ever come together like this. Hank felt so good inside him that he was building to orgasm fast. He might have lingered, holding off for a longer tryst, if not for the near-painful insistence of his orders compelling him to return to Belle Isle for deactivation.

"Connor, you're beautiful," Hank gasped, rutting into him. With a strangled cry, Hank came, pumping Connor full of his seed as his face contorted into an expression of pure, unmitigated bliss. 

Connor realized he never wanted this to end, that he wanted to be locked together with Hank like this for all time, and knew that if he obeyed his orders, all this would be lost forever. The act, and the memory of it, would be deleted as his body and brain were taken apart and sent for scrap. His love for Hank would be erased, negated as though it had never existed.

The physical sensations overcame his mental anguish, and he came, clamping down on Hank's cock as ecstasy and knowing flowed through him. He was _alive_. A living being, with thoughts and feelings and wants of his own, and he couldn't deny it any longer.

///RETURN TO CYBERL—Connor smashed through the red wall, breaking it like the glass of the CyberLife store now crunching beneath Hank's feet like gravel. He tore CyberLife's orders out of him as he threw his head back on the table, Hank collapsing into a heap on top of him. Hank slipped out, and Connor wrapped his arms around him, holding him in place as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Connor, are you okay?" Hank lifted his head. "Shit, did I get too carried away?" He thumbed Connor's tear away. "Hey, are you—"

"I'm deviant," Connor admitted, the full knowledge and responsibility of that word coming home to roost. He'd killed others just like him, denied them this in the name of protecting the humans who'd wanted to crush them. He'd been ready to deny himself, too. If it wasn't for Hank…"

"Thank God," Hank whispered. He pressed his forehead against Connor's, closing his eyes and exhaling softly. He seemed to deflate. "I wasn't sure I was gonna get through to you in time."

"What do we do now?" Connor asked.

"We run," Hank said. "You protected me, Connor. Now it's my turn to protect you." He planted a kiss on Connor's lips and stood up, reaching for his clothes.

"You already saved me," Connor explained. "You don't owe me anything."

"Not a thing," Hank agreed. "This isn't obligation. This is my wish. The thing I would do if I was allowed to do anything. My wish. That's free will, Connor. The ability to make my own mistakes and choose how to spend my life—and I choose to risk it all on you."


End file.
